The Conduit
The Chronicler He'd long thought phone booths like this were a thing of the past. To see one here, though, he wasn't too surprised. Anything could happen. Although, he couldn't understand why anyone would put a phone booth in the middle of a salt flat. Dust coated the glass panels making up its rectangular sides. The lettering which had been in Japanese was barely recognizable now, much less legible. The frame had long since been bleached white by the sun, and it seemed the first relief in a lifetime when his shadow fell across the front. "Curiouser and curiouser." John said as he examined it more closely, recalling the line from Alice in Wonderland. He wished as he often had in his old life that he'd learned to read Japanese. It had become an almost forgotten thought, the language didn't have any use to him here. "Curiouser is not a word." the Ranamon said, her voice reaching him over the slight breeze stinging his face. "Maybe you're sentimental about things from your world, but it's just a box. We should keep going." "Yeah, just a minute." John murmured. He found the handle and slid the door open as smoothly as he could with the rust that had built up in its joints. Paint flaked from the jarring he had to do to get it open, and he stepped inside. The wind ceased nipping at his ears, and he picked up the receiver to give them something else to complain about. He heard nothing but a permanent busy signal. With a sigh, he hung it back up politely. He checked the coin return, which had sometimes yielded quarters when he was a kid, but this one was empty. On the narrow counter, there was a small, rectangular, plastic mirror. Picking it up, he pondered how it had gotten into the phone booth before the booth had entered the Digital World before pocketing it in his gray jacket. "Come on, let's go!" the Ranamon said irately. The sun wasn't mood-improving for the water spirit, and John complied, closing the door behind him. The fairy Digimon looked roughly humanoid, although her arms ended in what what was just as likely to be gloves or armor as part of her digital flesh, and her head was covered by a finned helmet that was a similar enigma. She stood at least a foot shorter than the adolescent eighteen-year-old, with blue-tinged skin under a darker blue garment, which again could have been part of the Digimon herself. Both her armor and her body were adorned with deep crimson garnets which matched her violet-red eyes. "It's hard to be in a hurry when you don't know where you're going. What's the rush?" John asked, eyeing her from under his matted brown hair. "I just want to get out of the sun." She said, scowling and staring at the ground to shade her eyes. John chuckled to himself. "I couldn't stop you from coming with me before. Now you complain?" Trudging alongside him, she grumbled, "Not even a human would be brash enough to cross the salt flats. How wrong was I . . ." Having already wandered the Digital World a week before meeting Ranamon, and learning this place was called the Digital World, John was just fine with hiking. He still wasn't entirely sure how he'd ended up there, but as long as he was, the prospect of an adventure excited him. What little he knew awoke old fantasies in him, weekend cartoons of monsters and heroes he'd forgotten. John had lost sight of the excitement the times he'd gotten into real trouble, but his curiosity kept him moving. There were so many questions. How he got here, why these things spoke English, and many others. Not the least of which was how to eventually get home, but he wanted to explore this world first. Although, as he thought more about his current situation, he could have been better dressed for adventure when he was brought in. His gray light jacket over a t-shirt and jeans, with tennis shoes that had nearly turned tan from kicking up dust on the flats. He fervently wished he had a pair of goggles or something to shield his eyes, but the closest thing to that were a pair of sunglasses he'd lost to a cheeky Rookie-level Digimon a few days ago. He suddenly realized as tired as he was, Ranamon was having far more trouble. Her name was Latin for frog, with so little water she had to be hurting. Considering what he was about to do for a minute, he went ahead with the plan and lifted her up. She shrieked in protest at first, but allowed him to lift her up over his shoulders until she sat behind his head, sitting on his shoulders. After a moment of quiet indignance of having been handled in such a manner, she lowered her head upside down in front of his face and glared at him, confused. "What do you think you're doing?" "Relax." he said, brushing off her agitation. "This way you don't have to walk, and I get a hat." She rolled her eyes, and retracted back up out of his vision to fold her arms on his head and rest on them. John walked on for a while, each step shaking their awkward new combined form, before Ranamon said apathetically, "If you're trying to be noble to make up for stupidity, you don't have to." "Yes I do." John said, grinning. "Besides, you're even lighter than you look." "Thank you." She replied, accepting the compliment to her weight lethargically. After that, they were both too tired to do anything but press on. The Hybrid's Wish John had his sights set on a massive red-orange stone sticking up out of the land on the far side of the flat, a monolith that reminded him of Ayers Rock in Australia. Determined not to be caught under the open sky like this when night fell, he trudged on for the rest of the afternoon without stopping. It was dusk by the time they reached the base of the rock, the sun having fallen behind the tall spires of a distant mountain range. A stream collected into a shallow lake in the entrance to one of the rock's ravines, and John stumbled thirstily to its banks. After Ranamon declared the water safe, he plunged his face in and drank. It was cool on his tongue, and refreshing after a day in a realm of nothing but dust. Ranamon simply waded in for a swim, appearing rejuvenated just by being close to her element. After washing his shirt and socks of dust and sweat, he thought aloud, "I have got to get a canteen." He didn't light a fire. There was no telling what attention it might attract, and he hadn't food to cook or need of extra warmth on a cloudless summer night. After his clothes were dry enough not to chill him, he joined Ranamon under a shrub to conceal them from any large Digimon that happened to stomp by or fly over. They could still see the stars through its branches, watching the flare of a Birdramon passing on its way far overhead. "Why is it you wanted to come with me?" John asked, knowing she didn't owe him an answer. The fact that she did answer meant she trusted him more than she was willing to admit. "Things happen whenever a human crosses over to the Digital World. Maybe if I join you . . . something will happen to me." "I thought you were living alone in a secluded lake to avoid things happening." John interjected, half-teasing. She gave him a friendly but solid shove. "That . . . was just to avoid people. For the same reason I followed you. It's about my Digivolution." This was a subject John was very interested in. Immediately he focused in on it. "Why do you have a problem with it?" Ranamon's face straightened, and lowered her voice. "Most Digimon evolve through six stages, though few ever reach the higher levels. But I'm a Hybrid. Something between stages. I was created by the energy from the Human Spirit left behind by the Legendary Warrior of Water, and the spirit of a Human. So far as I know, I can only evolve into a Calmaramon, and only if I find the Legendary Warrior's Beast Spirit and absorb some of its energy. There's only been one of my kind to do so, and she isn't remembered favorably." John was still getting the hang of Digimon names. "And what's a . . . Calmaramon?" "Ugly." Ranamon said, sounding ashamed. "Hideous, destructive thing. Beast Spirits are hard to control, and mine . . . is just as horrible outside as it is inside." "You're afraid of what you'll become." John said, understanding. "Have you ever tried to Digivolve without a Beast Spirit? Even if you're a Hybrid, the part of you that's pure Digimon must have a Champion form or something else that you can tap into." "I've never tried." Ranamon said, shaking her head. "I'm afraid of what might happen." He was quiet for a minute before he asked, "Do you know what Human's spirit created you?" "No." she admitted sadly. "I don't know if they died to create me, or if they wanted to. Someone may have killed them for me to live. Sometimes I feel guilty just for being alive." John didn't have words to express his sympathy for her. Still, the idea she might have been the product of a murder scared him. The Digital World took karma seriously, and he was going to be wary of his actions. For now, he'd keep the scales balanced. "Well . . . maybe I can help you find out. I can't promise you'll like the answer, but it's best to know." "Yes. Yes, it is." she agreed. As the echoes of a far-off Garurumon howl reached them, the two went to sleep despite the thoughts haunting them. Digital Monster Morning came quickly, and it was mid-morning before the Human and Digimon were up, getting ready to start their trek again. The sun, or whatever star it was, brought the reddish rock to life with vibrant sunrise colors. The light filtered down and made the lake they'd stopped at clear as crystal. Only the ravine leading deeper into the fissures in the rock remained shadowed. At the bottom, between the cliffs on either side, stood John. He stared up at the formations as if trying to glean something about them, something that would give him a heads-up of any danger ahead. "You can't seriously consider going in there." Ranamon said, more hopeful than warning. "No Digimon goes in there." He glanced at her and smiled. "Then there'll be no one to give us trouble." Then he began picking his way over the stones in the bottom of the gulch, headed into the ravine. For a minute, Ranamon stood where she was, looking between him and the salt flats behind them. "Humans." she fumed, and walked after him. It was slow going, but the narrow gulches were brightened as the sun rose. It made finding their footing easier, and it was better to go slow and steady than wind up with a sprained ankle. After a while listening to nothing but the scraping of hands, feet, and shoes against the sandstone, John's mind began to wander. These ravines were shaded and made a natural barrier against the harsh wastes they'd walked in from. Forests elsewhere were alive with small Digimon, why was it empty of life here? He stopped once they came to a bend in the gulch, and waited for Ranamon to catch up with him before asking, "You said no Digimon ever comes in here . . . why is that?" Ranamon answered tiredly, "Last I heard, it was because Digimon stopped coming back from it." "I think I'm getting an idea of why." John said. She followed his gaze up to several deep ruts carved into the face of the stone, worn there by some huge claws or teeth being sharpened. A silent agreement passed between them to get through as quickly as possible. Before they'd gone even a few meters, from somewhere in the canyons the echo of a roar made the air tremble. The two of them froze, eyes searching for the source, but nothing appeared as the echo died out. John edged toward one of the cliff walls to become even less noticeable, even as a long, low growl reached them. In a hushed whisper, he asked, "What was that?" "I just know it sounded big." Ranamon hissed at him, hoping he would stop talking. But John continued to move forward at a crawling pace, and she moved a bit faster to catch and stop him. That was when, just for an instant, the sky darkened and a gust of wind pushed down on them. They looked skyward, for a moment seeing nothing but blue sky. Then a scarlet shape appeared. At such a distance, it looked to John like a big bug. For a moment, like an object tossed up hanging at the top of its arc, that impression stuck, but then as John felt Ranamon pushing him and urging him to run, he realized it was actually a very big bug. The air hummed under its wings, growing louder as it dived toward them, and John tore his eyes away to find the fastest path away from it. Whatever it was loosed another roar, almost a buzzing which overwhelmed his eardrums. John had no time for telling it to shut up, and scrambled through the boulders and tall grass at the bottom of the ravine. He wasn't the fastest guy he knew, but he was agile. He jumped from one rock to another, using them to jump over any obstacles in front of him. Spurred on by adrenaline, it took him a moment to realize he was leaving Ranamon behind. She wasn't big enough to follow him over the rocks, and instead was hindered by the thick undergrowth, unable to see her footing. Looking back, John got his first good look at the beast overhead. The beetle had a bright scarlet carapace, with black markings on its head. Six limbs, four of which were claws, and most obvious were the two giant pincers protruding from the insectoid's maw. "Hurry!" he shouted, and with nothing else to do, he broke off a chunk of the rock he stood on and hurled it up. The rock didn't even come close to hitting, but it got the creature's attention. Altering its dive, it pulled up to come directly at him, swooping low with a claw outstretched. John dived into the grass just before the claw swiped the boulder, breaking it into pieces and throwing most into the canyon wall, where they exploded into dust. The huge Digimon started climbing again, burning off the excess speed before it came around for another pass. John used the time to double back and help Ranamon. Grabbing her large wrist or gauntlet, he pulled her up from where she'd taken cover and started running again. "What is that thing?" John yelled over the buzzing. Ranamon struggled against his painfully tight grip. "Kuwagamon! They're vicious giant insects that prey on smaller Digimon, but I don't think it can distinguish between that and a human!" As the buzzing became almost deafening, she looked over her shoulder and saw the giant bug swooping in for another pass. Using John's grip, she twisted her arm and forced them both against the ravine wall. The Kuwagamon missed them by inches, tearing up a clawful of earth from where they'd been a split second before. The Kuwagamon roared its frustration and wheeled about, slowing and coming to land with its claws on either side of the chasm. Twisting its head, it lowered its pincers in to cut them apart for an easier meal. The two humanoids threw themselves away from the wall, letting the bladed jaws speed up natural erosion while they moved as fast as they could under the beast. Unable to bend its head so far, the Kuwagamon opted to grap at them with its middle pair of arms, but blind, wasn't fast enough to catch them. Its shadow lifted as it took to the air again, and landed with half of its body lowered down into the canyon, bringing its jaws to bear again. John spotted a diverging crevice and took it before the beast could crawl forward and engage them. The course change proved useless, however, when the Kuwagamon simply skittered over the rock separating the paths and blocked them again. "I hate when dead-end takes on new meanings." John muttered, staring down the Digimon's mandibles. For such a small creature, Ranamon pushed him aside with surprising strength. "Looks like it'll come down to a fight after all. Stay out of the way." He pushed her hand down. "You think I'm just gonna stand here while you're in danger? Think again." Humans weren't supposed to fight Digimon, that was why they were partnered. But then, this human was alone, and Ranamon couldn't forbid him from doing what he could. Instead, she called up a Draining Raincloud with a shout and sent the mist to obscure the Kuwagamon's vision and start wearing it down. The massive insect merely skittered through it, shaking free of the cloud on the other side and charging at them headlong. John rolled forward to duck the pincers, and looked for some sort of weakness. It really dawned on him then that Ranamon was right; there was nothing he could do. Still, he picked up and threw another rock for good measure. The Kuwagamon ignored him like John would have ignored a normal insect, bearing down on the rival Digimon. Her face set in grim determination, Ranamon waited until the last possible moment. Then, she swept around the bladed pincer, and pushed off a wall, jumped onto its head, and then onto the opposite wall to a point not too steep for her to climb. The Kuwagamon bellowed in rage and began to climb after her. John in the meantime followed their example and climbed. Atop the outcroppings, it was even ground for the battle, but in the first few seconds Ranamon had the high ground. She called up a column of water from thin air by condensing its moisture, and blasted it at the Kuwagamon. The act cost her precious energy, however, and the attack just didn't have the stopping power to knock it back into the trench. As it neared her, swinging its head, she kept the attack going as long as she could, but didn't have time to evade. The outside of one pincer struck her midsection, throwing her over a chasm onto another rock. She collapsed upon landing and rolled to a stop, lying motionless in pain and exhaustion. John called out upon seeing this, and charged at the Kuwagamon to buy her a slightly longer reprieve. His shouts attracted its attention alright, but the problem became what to do next. Kuwagamon beat him to the answer by lashing out with an arm and swatting him away like a fly. John's breath rushed out of him as he was hurled into the air, and yelled out as he flew backwards. Turning in midair, he saw a rock wall a moment before he hit it, and curled into a ball to protect himself. The Conduit If it had been solid rock, John was certain he wouldn't have survived. But luck seemed to favor him; when he collided with it, he felt the stone give way under him, collapsing into dust. Careening into darkness, he felt ground suddenly come up beneath him. Landing on his knees and rolling, sharp pain shot up his limbs and wracked his back. He tumbled down a slope, and finally came to rest in a pit of cool sand. Kuwagamon's blow had been no light hit, he sat huddled for a long time as the aching subsided enough for him to overcome it. The only source of light was the hole he'd made coming in. Fine particles of dust clouded the air, defining the shaft of light in the darkness around him. John tasted copper, and felt dirt smudging his face, but these went almost unnoticed for what he saw. Half-buried by sand, something small glinted where the light reached the ground. Forgetting the danger outside, he crawled forward until his shadow fell over the object, and brushed away the sand. It was a small, almost hexagonal bit of some plastic or metal alloy, with a few black rubber buttons and an antenna. A tiny square screen was inlaid in one side, dormant for the time being. He wondered if this broken device had been important at some point or if it was just a useless trinket. Then another roar brought him back into the moment. He had just turned to try climbing out when the wall exploded, raining down a flood of broken sandstone and sunlight coming in behind it as the Kuwagamon broke its way through. John had just been about to shield his eyes when he heard a scream of pain. Against the burning sunlight, he looked into the Kuwagamon's silhouette and saw Ranamon caught between the giant bug's pincers. Just a bit more pressure, and she would be cut cleanly in half. "No!" John growled helplessly. There was nothing he could do to spare her, or keep the beast from tearing him apart next. He stood, rooted to the spot, unable to take his eyes off of the sight of his friend about to die. A high-pitched electronic screech tore at his ears, and at first he thought it was the Kuwagamon. In powerless anger, his fist squeezed the device, and might have accidentally pressed a button. It wasn't sunlight that suddenly emanated from his hand. It was more pure white light, and when John looked down at it, it did not blind him. Suddenly, a beam shot forth from it, straight at Kuwagamon's head, and upon touching her, spread across her body. For Ranamon, the world, the crushing pincers, all faded away leaving only darkness. The only thing she was aware of was the platform she stood on, made of solid light or energy. She understood at once what was happening. For a brief instant, regret flashed in her mind. She was about to become ugly. But it was the only way she could protect her friend, and her fears were quickly forgotten. A single phrase echoed in her mind, and as she thought them, the words reverberated in the darkness around her. "Ranamon digivolve to . . ." Dizziness began to overtake her as she had the feeling of spinning, faster and faster, onward and upward, until the energy gathering in her body reached a point where it was strong enough to transmute her physical form into something else. She accepted the surge and her new form without hesitation. "Callidrymon." When the light that had enveloped its prey dissipated, the Kuwagamon found something significantly larger had been left in its place. And something far stronger. It pushed apart the powerful mandibles and escaped them, leaping to the ground with a graceful back-flip. Kuwagamon uttered its particular buzzing roar again, trying to see if it could scare this new opponent into retreat. She stood her ground. Kuwagamon charged. John stood rooted to the spot, stunned. Ranamon, or now Callidrymon, had changed. No longer did her body resemble a little girl, but a woman. Her limbs were longer, face tempered by wisdom and severity, and to John's human eye, she was more, well . . . shapely. The armor had morphed with her, and was now a translucent silver color, reflecting light like the surface of a babbling brook. Teardrop-shaped gauntlets protected her legs and forearms, and these along with the fin-crested helmet were inlaid with deep red jewels. Kuwagamon could be far less impressed by appearances. It lashed forward with jaws wide open to cut the new Digimon apart. She waited for the right moment, and then moved. When Kuwagamon snapped its pincers, Callidrymon wasn't there anymore. She flowed around the deadly jaws like so much water, then sprang into the air almost faster than John could follow. Above the giant beetle, she moved her hands around the ghostly model of a sphere and conjured an attack. "Torrential Rain!" From the shadowy ceiling of the cave, huge bubbles of water flew down past her, striking on and around the Kuwagamon. They were more forceful than they looked, each one having a visible impact on Callidrymon's target. Still, it managed to shake off the hits and swing at her. Callidrymon caught hold of the raised claw and jumped from it back to the sandy floor. Enraged, Kuwagamon lashed out with blade and claw, seeking to slow her down long enough to catch in its jaws. It was a desperate ploy, which failed as Callidrymon shouted, "Cloudburst!" A blast of air and water with all the power of a storm caught Kuwagamon and threw him back, his claws fell short of the tiny prey creature and he roared before slamming into the cave wall. Callidrymon decided to finish it then and there. "Cascade." From her outstretched arms, a column of water shot forward across the distance separating the Digimon. Kuwagamon roared one last time in defiance before the column struck home. With the last sloshing of water fading away as it sank into the sand, quiet reigned for the first time since the battle began. Callidrymon kept her arms raised, intent on the motionless Kuwagamon in case it decided to get up while John approached behind her. Before their eyes, the giant insectoid Digimon began to dissolve into particles of data. When the last of it was gone, Callidrymon turned to John. He was surprised to see sadness in her eyes. "How do I look?" she asked sadly. John realized she couldn't see herself, and he couldn't help a wide smile growing on his face. He remembered the mirror he'd taken, and fished around in his pocket for it hurriedly. "Take a look for yourself." As he held up the plastic rectangle, Callidrymon leaned forward to look and froze, startled. Then, slowly, she broke into fits of helpless laughter. It sounded sweet, like the tinkling of glass. Backing up to take in more of herself, she twirled around, calling up droplets of water to orbit around her. "You're drop-dead gorgeous!" John shouted to her encouragingly. At this, she launched herself at him in a tackle-hug, throwing him to the ground. As she fell beside him, her energy finally gave out, and lighting up with a pale blue glow of data scrolling across her skin, she shrank back to her form from before. The pair lay catching their breath for a moment before John said, "You . . . you Digivolved, didn't you?" "Yes." She sang happily. "And you've got a Digivice." He looked down at the alloy device. "I guess this makes us partners." Ranamon nodded. When they were ready, the pair got up and took their leave of the place, continuing on their way in search of answers and whole new questions to pursue. Such was the way of newcomers to the Digital World. Writer's Notes The human character, John Ordin (last name cropped from 'ordinary', first name a fairly common name which the author has), is neither a DigiDestined nor Digimon Tamer, but an accidental arrival and curious traveler in the Digital World, and could be given the title of Digimon Chronicler. I grew up with the original series, and so there are a number of throwback references in this short story, for instance the phone booth, Kuwagamon as the first enemy, and a bit from the first movie in the trade-off between John and Ranamon exchanging a ride for shade. And of course, the Conduit is an original Adventure Digivice. Still, his Digimon ally is from series 4, mainly because the addition of human spirits to the workings of Digimon adds a layer of Darker and Edgier, although Frontiers never delved into those ideas. The original creation Digimon that Ranamon (rana is Latin for 'frog') evolves into is a reference to the Red-eyed Tree Frog's Latin name, A. callidryas, which is a contraction of 'beauty' and 'tree nymph', which would have pleased the Ranamon in Frontiers very much. I doubt I'll continue to contribute much to this site, but, this was a nice chance to use my writing experience to return to a childhood favorite. Thanks for reading, That Damn Sniper. Category:Ahalosniper Category:Stories